I'm Sorry
by SoftballSuperhero
Summary: ***infinity war spoilers*** Peter could feel it, the end of the world, before anyone else. One-shot on how Peter's spider sense made his death all the more painful.


I know this scene has been written and bootlegged a thousand times, but I resist writing an angsty explanation for why Peter's death took so much longer than everyone else's. Please don't spoil Infinity War for your friends!

He felt it; the end.

He sensed the danger, the overwhelming, world ending danger, before anyone else possibly could.

The feeling was sickening, dark.

Peter could sense threats before they caused harm; could feel the probability of disaster just before it happened. Ned called it his "spider sense". Peter called it the scary feeling in his gut.

Usually, his "spider sense" felt like anxiety, or a poke in the stomach if something big was going to happen, but it wasn't particularly painful. It was just enough to get his adrenaline pumping and his head spinning, looking for possible threats.

But this? This was agony.

Peter winced at a sudden onslaught of pain. He staggered, trying to catch his breath, looking for a villain he could not see. This sense, this pain, was more intense than he could ever imagine. It was as if the coming danger was so huge, so powerful, that it was unstoppable.

It was.

When he saw Quill and Strange start dissolving, disappearing, he knew this was it...this was the _end_. There was no winning this battle.

It was almost funny, in a sick, sadistic way, how Peter had all this power, the Avengers had all this power, yet they would be terminated in an instant. They couldn't even put up a fight. It took Thanos no effort-just a snap and a smile.

Peter almost longed to be stopping bank robberies and bullies, not terrifying space titans. Part of him wished he'd stayed on the bus.

The other part knew it wouldn't have mattered. It knew that going to space, helping Tony Stark, being _Spider-Man,_ was something he could never give up. Staying on the bus wouldn't have changed his fate; at least he had tried.

He tried.

It felt like all Peter ever did was try. Try, try again and never succeed. He tried to be a good nephew, a good student, to use his powers for good, to help everyone. Right now he tried to fight the awful feeling swelling in his stomach.

The feeling overtook him; overwhelmed his tired body. As his thoughts caught up with his senses and time flashed out of slow-motion, Peter stumbled forward. This was it, he knew; why fight it?

 **Mr. Stark?**

He knew it was hopeless, knew the danger long before it hit, yet he still clung to the one person who had always believed in him.

 **I don't feel so good.**

Boy was that an understatement. On top of the horrible sense of all that was happening blazing in his stomach, Peter could already see his shoulder start to flake away. He felt broken; knew he was crumbling to pieces.

 **You're alright.**

Tony knew it was a lie. Peter knew it was a lie. The words hung heavy in the air between the two, turning to concrete and sinking like a stone.

 **I don't kno-I don't know what's happening**

Peter crashed into Tony's arms, legs giving out. He was weak, so weak, and it showed. He clung to Tony, trying to stay together, trying to fight all the pain inside him.

He wasn't ready, he was just a kid. He'd only had these powers for what, a year? He didn't deserve to be an Avenger, he couldn't even drive. He just wanted to stay with Tony, with May, with everyone back home.

Home. Home's definition had changed a lot for Peter over the years, but the feeling was always the same. It was _this._ In Tony's arms-feeling the Iron Man's muscles clenching and lungs expanding-feeling _life_ and _love,_ this was home.

He didn't want to leave home, not again. He just _wasn't ready._ Whimpering, clinging to Tony, Peter became the child he was. He was terrified.

But then, he wasn't.

Looking up at Tony as his arm faded to ashes, Peter felt a sudden calm wash over him. All the pain seemed to disappear and he was left numb, possibly because his limbs were disappearing before his eyes.

Beneath the fear and agony, guilt was uncovered in Peter. Guilt that he let Tony down, that he let May down, that he couldn't have done _more._ He was the Spider-Man; it was his _responsibility._ If only he had gotten the gauntlet off a second sooner, or if he had saved Tony from Thanos so Strange didn't have to give up the Time Stone, if only he had done _more,_ then maybe half the universe wouldn't be crumbling into nothing right now. Peter looked into Tony's eyes and tried to convey the turmoil within him before he was gone, gone forever.

 **I'm sorry.**


End file.
